Godforsaken
by labellily
Summary: When men are sent to the barren regions of the country, old secrets are stirred. Old wounds revealed. A tortured soul awakens, and her feet touch dead floors. Unseen fingers brush cold cheeks. A heartbeat falls silent.
1. Default Chapter

G o d f o r s a k e n  
  
  
  
  
  
D a y O n e  
  
  
  
  
  
'O God, why hast thou forsaken me?'  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Duo sighed noisily, hoping to break the deafening silence. The air around them recoiled from the sound, and then swallowed it in a gulp. They had been driving through this Godforsaken wasteland for over two days, and frankly Duo was getting tired of seeing the same barren forest surrounding them on all sides.  
  
A week before, they had been given a mission. If that hadn't been a bad thing in and of itself, the fact that it was their first mission in over three years was even worse. Oz had disbanded, and all of their enemies had been destroyed. There were not to be any more missions, but here the five young men were, driving towards an unknown English countryside as if they were in an ancient black and white movie were there was no sound. There was no sound, and you had to try to read the subtitles in time to how quickly they were speaking. If you couldn't keep up, you'd miss out on something that could have been vital to the movie that you were trying to understand.  
  
That was how Duo felt anyways. He felt like they were trapped inside a soundless dream without color. In truth, it actually seemed like a black and white world. It was the middle of a biting, black winter. Frost hung off the trees like crystal tears, and the sky was muffled by a gray blanket. The trees were black, and so was the car they were in. If Hiiro's heart was a landscape, Duo thought with sudden humor, this was what it would look like.  
  
They had driven through the English countryside before, but during the summer when it was warm and accepting. It had been a beautiful drive through the countryside, like how they describe it in all the British movies and books. The hills had been splashed with green and dotted with rolling fields of flowers. The Englishman they had been with had been a true gentleman, and his wife had been the very image of a proper lady.  
  
Not, of course, that Duo even liked proper ladies. It had merely been an observation made in the very middle of all the polite nothingness and stifling boredom. He would, however, take the stiff-necked gentleman and his wife over this place any day.  
  
He felt a hand touch his arm, and looked over at Quatre, who was looking ahead with wide blue eyes. Puzzled, Duo looked ahead, expecting---what? He really didn't know. All he knew was that this place felt wrong. It felt cold, wrong, and he knew with a sudden certainty that they needed to forget the mission and turn around. They needed to make a U-turn and drive away from the mansion rising on the hilltop in front of them.  
  
But they didn't. They burst through the edge of the forest into an equally barren field. In many ways, the field wasn't any different than the forest. Hiiro parked the car at the bottom of the hill, and Duo reluctantly got out of the car. As he had expected, the earth was as hard as stone. It was covered by a fine dusting of frost, and dead brown grass stuck unevenly out of the ground below it. The brown stretched on forever, Duo saw with a sinking heart. The silent manor stood tall in front of them, beckoning to them. It was calling out to them to hurry towards the door, and was at the same time sobbing to them to run. Run, run, run and never come back.  
  
Quatre, Wufei, Trowa, and Hiiro started forwards up the winding path towards the large double doors. Trailing behind them, Duo forced his feet to take the next step, trying to convince himself that he was being stupid. The house was not going to be their deaths. That was absolutely ridiculous. Houses were only houses, even if they were called mansions or manors. They were only houses even if they were settled on a dead hill days away from civilization.  
  
Biting his lip to keep himself from voicing his worries, he climbed the stone steps, again certain that he was walking the steps towards his doom. Pushing his inner voice down, he focused on Hiiro's messy hair and tried not to shudder when Quatre banged the knocker against the door. He knocked once and then took a respectful step back.  
  
The door did not move for a great many seconds, and when Duo had dared to hope that no one was home, the door swung open, revealing a woman.  
  
Just a woman, you would scoff. But no, she was not a woman. Maybe she was pretending to be a woman, but no one could look that cold and stay alive. Duo tried to keep his mouth from dropping open as he stared at her.  
  
She was wearing a red evening gown that rippled to the ground. Tiny red shoes peeped out from under the hem. Long black hair fell to her back, and great ebony eyes gazed out of a beautiful, pale face. Ruby lips twitched upon seeing her visitors, but it was her eyes that terrified Duo. Those black marbles stared at them with absolutely no life whatsoever. Duo glanced over at Hiiro and compared to two. Upon a moment's thought, he decided that he would cry himself to sleep if he had to live with the woman with raven hair.  
  
A thin black eyebrow raised slightly. "Welcome to the Rosethorn Manor. What is your business?"  
  
"We're here looking for someone named Serenity," Hiiro said shortly.  
  
The dead eyes didn't waver a bit, but stayed fastened on Hiiro's face. "Serenity," she breathed. "Serenity," she repeated. "Well isn't that amusing."  
  
She didn't look amused at all, Duo thought to himself. She didn't look like anything, actually. The woman in the red dress simply looked like a robot. Or, he thought suddenly, one of those trees come to life.  
  
"Yes," Quatre was saying, "we're here to see Serenity. We're to give her information on someone named Endymion."  
  
The woman didn't even flinch at the name. "Oh really. Well," she said finally, "I suppose you had better come in and warm up. The winter can get to us all, sometimes," she said cryptically. "I'll send someone for Serenity. She really hasn't been all that well lately," she stated. It didn't sound like an apology, exactly. It sounded like she was stating a fact.  
  
When he saw the inside of the manor, he couldn't help but gape. It looked like a page out of one of the history book pictures showing one palace or another. Great tapestries were draped on the walls, depicting lions, women, and men. A winding marble staircase was covered with a wide red carpet. It looked like a place fit for a queen.  
  
And it was as cold as a tomb.  
  
The five men circled the main greeting hall, feeling varying degrees of awe. A slight whimper caught Duo's ear, and he turned towards it. There was the sound of a tiny, muffled sob, and then silence.  
  
Breaking into their thoughts, the woman from before glided down the stairs. Hiiro stood up straighter, but she walked right by them towards a bell. She tapped it, and watched a doorway off to the right expectantly. A maid came bustling into the room. She was wearing the traditional maid costume, but her long black sleeves and long skirt were in sharp contrast to the red woman's bare arms and red dress.  
  
The woman said something to the maid, who nodded and hurried up the grand staircase and to the left. The Red Woman traced the maid's progress with her eyes and then turned back to a thoroughly confounded Duo. She still didn't smile, but stared at them unblinkingly.  
  
"Serenity will be down shortly," she said with that clipped, precise speech.  
  
"No need to be short with the poor dears, Rei. They've just come in from the forest. They must be tired and hungry," said a melodic voice from the staircase.  
  
All six of them turned. The Red Woman, Rei, curtsied. "Serenity," she said softly.  
  
Before them, just stepping off the last marble step, was the most beautiful woman they had ever seen. Long silver hair cascaded down from two heart shaped buns perched atop her head. She was bare armed, just like Rei. Serenity was wearing a silky looking white dress with a high waistline. Gold rings circled her chest, and a long rippling bow fell in liquid waves from her low back to spill onto the floor. Her face was as white as Rei's, but it was, after all, wintertime. She stepped daintily across the floor to them and extended her hand.  
  
"Hello," she said with a tiny smile.  
  
Duo almost closed his eyes, just wanting to listen to the music of her voice as it danced through his mind. Before Hiiro or anyone else could do anything, he took her hand and almost dropped it. Duo smiled his charmer smile and dropped a kiss on the back of her hand and withdrew quickly, trying discreetly to wipe the feel of her hand from his own. Her hand had been ice-cold, and had felt like he was kissing a block of partly frozen water.  
  
One by one, the other pilots shook her hand but didn't seem to notice the cold. Serenity spoke to them with her sweet voice, urging them to stay the night. Confident in the fact that Hiiro would deliver the information and leave, Duo paid no attention to the goings on, until he head Quatre saying the damning word.  
  
"Yes."  
  
Duo's head snapped up, and he flinched backwards when he found Rei's cold stare trained on him. Serenity was still talking, and he forced himself to listen. Rei's attention slipped away from his almost that instant.  
  
"---you've come at a terribly awkward time, I hate to say. You must understand, we were just preparing for a dinner party of sorts, but you're invited to join if you should like. I would be eternally grateful. It takes place in seven days. Oh, how foolish of me! I must ask for your names, or else I won't be able to announce you at the dinner table tonight."  
  
"Hiiro Yui."  
  
"Wufei Chang."  
  
"Trowa Barton."  
  
"My name is Quatre Rabera Winner, and I am very pleased to meet your acquaintance, Lady Serenity."  
  
"The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Winner, I'm sure. And what is your name, silent one?" she asked Duo with a small smile.  
  
The last thing that he wanted to do was give her his name. No matter what the others thought, he still did not trust the smiling woman and the creature with lifeless eyes.  
  
"I really don't know what my name is," he confessed, "but everyone calls me Duo Maxwell."  
  
Serenity nodded, looking thoughtful. "I see. How terribly horrible it must be to lose yourself," she said sympathetically, but her eyes were not on Duo. Her eyes were gazing up the stairs. Giving her head a little shake, she refocused on the braided man.  
  
"I am looking forwards to seeing you at dinner tonight," she announced, "but I must prepare. Rei, please call someone to take them to their rooms."  
  
"Of course," Rei said immediately.  
  
Serenity smiled gratefully and climbed the red staircase and then turned to the left. Rei touched the tiny bell again, and a servant was there almost immediately.  
  
"Ma'am," the man said respectfully.  
  
"Take them to their rooms. The third floor." Her eyes flashed at him, and he nodded respectfully.  
  
"Yes ma'am. Third floor. Haven't had anyone on the third floor in such a long while, yes indeedy, yes indeedy!" he caroled merrily.  
  
Duo shifted uncomfortably, but followed the man up the stairs. The servant was talking, Duo suddenly realized. Pushing his mind back towards the present, he stared at the man's bent back.  
  
"This is the Grand Staircase! It's the way you get to each of the three elevators! You can't get anywhere without going down this staircase, and Serenity knows when you do! Yes indeedy! My laws, it's true! A poor girl tried to escape last year by this staircase. The chit actually made it out the door, but Serenity knew! Yes, she did! Haven't seen her since. Ah! And here we are at the Junction! You can either go right or left. Left is where Elevator 3 is. That's how you get to each of the Ladies' rooms. There're five of them in all, and there's one guestroom on each of the floors. Well, except on Serenity's floor of course, that wouldn't do at all. There's rumored to be a hidden floor where they hid the little missus, but that happened oh, about a few years back, and no one believes it. No normal person can go up that Elevator without Serenity or one of the Ladies knowing. To the right is were servants like me live. There's a hallway separating the two halves of the manor, but no one's been able to find the entrance. Isn't gossip wonderful? I love gossip. The women say gossip is for women, but in places like this one has to keep oneself busy. And the Ladies never need anything, unless the sixth one wakes up, and that never happens!"  
  
Duo was silent, hoping the man would continue with his stories. The man, as if he were directly defying his wishes, did not resume speaking. He did, however, herd them towards the Elevator and punch the third button on the control panel. Once they were all inside and behind the old-fashioned gates, he began to sing again.  
  
"Elevator, elevator, don't fall down, down, down, down, down! Fly up high, high, high into the sky, sky, sky!" he sang.  
  
Duo felt a cold hand crawl down his spine, and the hairs on his arm stood straight up as they passed the space between the first and second floors. Then they lay smooth against his arm and his back felt perfectly warm, considering the house's temperature. The servant pushed the door open and led them happily down the halls. He even skipped a little bit, humming a tuneless melody to himself as he went. Coming, finally, to a door labeled 201, he smiled hugely at Hiiro and opened the door for him.  
  
Smiling cheerfully, he ushered Quatre towards room 203. Duo was pushed across the hall towards room 202. With a growing suspicion, Duo watched as Trowa was prodded into room 204. And, of course, Wufei was given room 205. Well. What a coincidence, he thought angrily.  
  
These people were obviously playing with them, and for some reason Duo was the only one that was able to see it. Why the normally sharp Hiiro was just playing along, or why Quatre couldn't feel the absence of life in the air, he didn't know. Why Trowa couldn't see the unnaturalness in Rei's eyes or the beautiful false smile that Serenity bestowed, he didn't know. Why things were the way there were, he didn't know. He did, however, know one thing.  
  
He knew nothing, and that was what he *did* know.  
  
  
  
  
  
*  
  
  
  
  
  
I write, and I write, and I write. Sometimes I wonder why I write with such a passion. I was never a great writer before, but now I can't stop myself. I write like a madwoman; I just can't stop my pen from flying across the lined sheets of paper. Most of the times I write about my life. An auto-biography that will never be finished. I will die here, and my work will be incomplete. No one will know I was ever here, except for the smiling faces that feed me, clothe me, wash me, and put me to sleep.  
  
I think that's the most horrible thing about this trap. I sleep my way through eternity. The smiling faces know the instant I wake, and I usually have time enough to jot down a random thought before a stranger comes and sends me back to sleep. I've been in this bed for as long as I can remember, except for those seventeen short years when I knew what was going on.  
  
Since then it's been---it's been what? Do I even know? The answer is no. No, I don't know. I know many, many things. After all, it's not like I don't have time to think. Over these past years I've come to know myself so well that I'm not even me anymore. I'm not aware of my thoughts, my heartbeat, or the strangeness of certain feelings.  
  
No scientist would ever be able to figure that out. If one is to learn about themselves to the extent I have, you have to be alone with your thoughts for so many years. I have been thinking, and I have thought. Since it is impossible for me to have lived long enough for this to happen, I can only assume that I am dead. But sometimes, when the smiling faces come, I know I am not dead. I remembering being a good person during life, and I can't pretend this is heaven.  
  
I imagine that Heaven is a wondrous place, filled with people who were equally wonderful. All there is here are strangers and smiling faces.  
  
Sometimes, I think I know why I'm driven to write. I think it's her idea of a sick joke. I think she's punishing me for all those years ago. I tried to escape all those years ago, but the smiling face with the dead eyes caught me in rings of fire. As much as it should have, it didn't hurt. Even before that I got out of this room, and was stopped by chains of gold hearts and white lightning. Another time I was frozen inside a block of ice. That was the longest time I had ever slept.  
  
But the writing. Yes, I'm sure it's her idea of a joke. She's in her room right now, laughing at me with that fake smile and those horrible empty eyes. I see her in the mirror sometimes. I see her now.  
  
She's watching me. She's watching me, and she knows that I'm awake. I sit here and wait for a stranger to come and put me back to sleep, but no one comes. She just sits there, brushing her hair. One stroke, one hundred strokes; she sits before her mirror, watching me, waiting until her hair looks like silk. That's the only time I see her. When she's in front of her mirror. I think I look a little bit like her, but not so much anymore.  
  
  
  
Whenever the man with the bent back sends me to sleep, he tells me stories. He's a very good storyteller, and he tells me about the first time he saw me and Lady Silver together. He said that if I had died my hair silver and changed my hair just a little bit, I would have passed for her twin. Now her once peach skin is dead white, and mine is still brown from the sun I saw once a long time ago. Her silver hair is silky and smooth, and mine hangs in tangled blonde ropes to my ankles. Her eyes are a cold, cold silver, and mine are blue, I think. Her skin is smooth and perfect, while my body is scarred with burns and heart shaped chain marks. It looks like their attacks hurt my body, but didn't hurt me.  
  
Does that make any sense? I think it does not. Sometimes Lady Silver frightens me. She talks to me about things she has done and will do later. Sometimes the things are as harmless as getting a new maid, but when she says that, her eyes flash and she looks hungry. Other times she talks about things I couldn't care less about. Like right now she's telling me about five men who have come to her with news of Endymion.  
  
Wait. Endymion. Endymion, Endymion, Endymion, Endymion, Endymion. That name sounds vaguely familiar. I sit thinking, trying once again to place a name to a face long gone. Fishing through my memory, I finally pull up a face with lively blue eyes and black hair; like a raven's wing. Mamoru. Endymion. I think he did something Silver didn't like. Maybe he tried to rescue me? Oh, I don't know.  
  
Now she's rapping on the glass and shouting at me. If this is what I have to endure every time I wake up, maybe it would be best if I just stayed in bed and never woke up. The shouting is hurting my ears. Someone will hear, and send me to sleep. That won't do at all. I like being awake, even if all I can do is write.  
  
I'm going to turn the mirror around so I can't see her, and she can't see me. There. I've done it. She's stopped shouting, but I'm afraid to turn it back around. She might only shout if she can see me.  
  
Oh God no. I'm jumping up, looking for a place to hide. There are footsteps outside my door! They've come to put me to sleep! I'm spinning my mirror back around and pounding on the glass. Silver is staring at me in shock as one of my fists goes through the mirror and I grab her hair.  
  
I've got her! I've got her! I'll kill her for putting me through this! I'll kill her! Her mouth is open, and she's screaming and struggling to free her hair from my fist. My mouth is open too, and I'm screaming, sobbing, trying to tell her that I'm going to kill her and that I just don't want to sleep again! I realize my pen is writing without my help, and now I'm screaming in terror, rage, and horrible, horrible pain.  
  
I'm all jumbled up and I can't think! My pen is spinning out of control! The smiling face with blonde hair bursts into the room with her heart chain! She's going to send me back to sleep! I try to pull myself the rest of the way through the mirror, but Silver has something sharp and shiny in her hand. She's cutting my fingers, but I'll do anything not to go back to sleep. The smiling face's chain grabs my ankle and pulls me back. I won't let go of her hair. I won't! If I go, she goes! She's screaming at someone named Makoto to do something, and then the door opens again. My world lights up and then---  
  
*  
  
*  
  
Duo's head whipped up as a scream tore through the house. It was a scream of pure terror. Seconds later, a second scream joined with the first. The second scream was a jumbled, messy thing; full of raw grief, fear, and rage. It was the sound an enraged animal would make if threatened.  
  
Suddenly the second was cut off, and the first trailed off to deep shuddering sobs. Duo stuck his head out of the door just in time to see two beautiful woman walk past his door. They both stopped and turned in sync to face him.  
  
"Who are you? The brown haired one demanded.  
  
"That wasn't nice Makoto," the blonde said softly.  
  
Duo studied them carefully. This house was scaring him. The brown haired one had white skin, just like the blonde. She had gorgeous brown hair pulled up into a ponytail that curled down to her shoulders. She, like the other women he'd seen in the house, was wearing a green evening dress with green shoes. Her eyes were dark green orbs that stared accusingly at him.  
  
The blonde was very shapely, more so than her companion. She had thick blonde hair that tumbled haphazardly down to her waist. Blue eyes teetered on the edge of death as they twinkled weakly at him. Her curves were contained in an orange dress that hugged her upper body and then loosened at her hips and pooled on the floor like liquid cloth.  
  
They, in turn, studied him with critical eyes until he cleared his throat. "I'm Duo Maxwell," he announced.  
  
The blonde smiled. It was a false, plastic smile. "Marvelous to meet you, Duo Maxwell. My name is Minako. This is my companion, Makoto. Now, if you'll excuse us, we must see to Serenity."  
  
With that, they turned in unison and continued down the hall. Frowning, he exited his room and followed them. Just as he was passing the staircase, he heard raised voices. Pressing himself against the wall, he watched the scene unfold below him.  
  
In the greeting hall there stood a woman with short blonde hair in a tuxedo. Next to her stood another beautiful woman with wavy aqua hair wearing a turquoise dress. Behind her and slightly to the left stood a younger girl with straight purple hair that fell to just above her shoulders. Large violet eyes skipped across the room, returning each time to the woman in front of them. She, unlike the others, was not wearing a dress. She was wearing a black T-shirt and black pants. Her waist was encircled by a black belt, studded with triangular silver buttons.  
  
The woman blocking them from entering further had short blue hair and cold blue eyes, just like the other four women in the house. Dead. White as a ghost. Unfeeling.  
  
"I want to see Koneko! Now!" the Tuxedo Woman roared.  
  
The blue haired woman didn't move a muscle. "You must regain control of your emotions, Haruka. I've explained to you repeatedly what has happened. Serenity will be down to greet you in a few moments. Minako and Makoto are trying to bring her around. She had a horrible scare, you know."  
  
Haruka grit her teeth. "I don't want to see Serenity, Ami!" she ground out.  
  
The aqua haired woman touched Haruka's shoulder and turned to Ami. "That was not what Haruka meant. She meant that we simply wanted to see Koneko."  
  
Ami didn't look at the aqua haired woman. "Michiru, I think Haruka can speak for herself. And I think that Haruka doesn't want to see Serenity. That, of course, is supremely disappointing."  
  
Haruka took a step forwards. "Ami, you know damn well that I'm loyal to Serenity. I just want to see Koneko! Is that too much to ask? Hotaru, Michiru, Setsuna and I haven't seen her in years!"  
  
Ami didn't flinch. "Actually, it is too much to ask. She's just been through a great ordeal, and is now resting. If you'd like, I can show you to your customary rooms."  
  
Damn, was everyone in this house like that? Duo wanted to bang Ami's head against a wall. Any wall, as long as she would wake up and see what was right in front of her. He'd slam her head time after time until she remembered that normal people had emotions.  
  
"This house draws you, doesn't it?" someone asked in his ear.  
  
Swearing softly, he whirled to face a smiling woman in a maroon dress. She swung her thick green hair over her shoulders and studied him.  
  
"You're wondering what it wrong with this house? Ah, but isn't that what everyone wants to know? To find that out, you'll have to find more than the truth. But the truth is generally worse than the lies that hide it, is it not? I know. I always know, don't I? I have to know. I have to know everything. But watch your back, boy. The truth of this place is one of the things that don't want to be discovered. Now go to your room before Serenity finds you here. Oh, Duo? Take my advice. Don't go to the dinner in seven days. Make yourself sick. Kill yourself. I really don't care. Just don't go to her dinner party."  
  
"But aren't you going?" he finally managed to ask.  
  
"Oh, but I will be able to stand the music played. You will not, unless you want a live of servitude to this house. Your room, Duo," she reminded him.  
  
Then she was gone, and he was left standing alone in the hallway, wondering just what the Perfect Soldier had gotten them into this time. Disappearing women, screams in the night, and shouting visitors dressed for a party.  
  
Cursing the day he met Hiiro, he went back up the elevator and down the hallway towards his rooms. As he walked along the hallway, it suddenly occurred to him that it would be very, very easy to get lost in these halls. Feeling eyes on his back, he spun. He could have sworn that he saw a frightened face, but it was gone the second he tried to focus on it. Chalking it down to his imagination, he continued along down the hall.  
  
Passing Hiiro's room, he heard a small groan. Frowning to himself, he turned and twisted the doorknob. The door swung open at his lightest touch. Strange, seeing the room was Hiiro's.  
  
"Hii-man?" he whispered.  
  
There was no answer. Venturing further into the room, he realized that it smelled wrong. He couldn't place the smell, but it seemed familiar. The air hung heavily around him, and the faintly orange light poured into the dark room through the open door, making him feel like someone was going to sneak up on him and knife him in the back.  
  
"Hiiro?" he asked again.  
  
His answer, this time, was a groan. His dread growing in his stomach, Duo forced himself into the room. And then his jaw dropped. Hiiro was lying on the floor in a fetal position, breathing heavily. A gasp worked its way out of Duo's mouth, and he dropped to the ground beside Hiiro and felt his forehead. Upon contact, Duo swore loudly and yanked his hand away as if stung.  
  
Hiiro was as cold as death. 


	2. Angels

G o d f o r s a k e n  
  
  
  
  
  
C h a p t e r T w o  
  
  
  
  
  
'O God, why hast thou forsaken me?'  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
My mind rebels against the still-life quality of the room, but I refuse to move even a muscle. I have gotten very good at this over the years, seeing how long I could delay the inevitable sleep. I feel the urge to move my leg crash into me, almost painful in its force. I do not move. I can not move. If I move, they'll know, and they'll come for me  
  
I do not let myself think about why I am awake. It makes no sense, but I don't want to think about it. It's better sometimes to focus on the things that you understood, like rage. Like pain. Like horror. Like the loneliness that would steal over you and snatch away your breath; leaving you dumb and hollow, unable to speak, wondering how you were so utterly and abruptly alone. Leaving you wondering why God was so angry with you.  
  
That is the only reason I can think of as to why I'm here in this hellish house with its ice walls and dead, smiling caretakers. In brief, blurry moments I sometimes imagine that I'm here because of what I am, but then the moment fades, leaving me wondering what kind of person I could possibly be to deserve this place. I'm not really even sure if it's real. I'm beginning to believe that it's a special device belonging to God, made for those unfortunate ones who are especially deserving of an awful fate.  
  
I strain my memory, trying to remember what I had done, and could not come up with anything. I was someone of great importance, but I never did anything. Which, of course, may very well be why I was here, even though that sort of thing only happened in fairy tales when the spoiled princess needed to be taught a lesson.  
  
The walls buckle around me, and reality vibrates with a cruel, mocking sound. My hands fly to my ears, and I pull my knees to my chest in a tight little ball, trying to keep the sound out of my ears. It dies away, but there is still another sound beneath it.  
  
It was a roar of pure rage, somewhat like mine had been. Was it only an echo, or was there someone else in this house with enough soul to scream out against the smiling ones? Cautiously, ever so cautiously I sit up in the bed and focus my eyes on the plain wood mirror. It seemed very old, but the glass itself looked as if it might flow right out of the frame. I blink and try to make sense of what I am seeing in the mirror.  
  
I am seeing myself.  
  
I crawl out from under the comforter and crouch on the edge of my bed, warily eyeing my reflection. I am worrying now that Lady Silver would step out of there laughing, and tell me that it was all just a joke and I would have to go to sleep, now. If she does, I think with a certain degree of anger, I will kill her. Anything to keep that sleep at bay. Anything.  
  
The roar is cut off, and I find myself suddenly terrified that the soul had been destroyed, just like how they were slowly destroying mine. I leap out of bed and run to the mirror. I grab the frame and press my nose against the glass, wishing fervently that I could see the soul.  
  
And to my utter shock, I can.  
  
He is standing in the hall right in front of room 201, having what looked to be a heated conversation with a vaguely familiar green haired woman. She does not look entirely pleased with him, but neither does he look pleased with her. I find a perverse pleasure in the fact that things could go wrong for people even when they weren't my kind of predicament.  
  
The man-boy really-is shouting at her. His violet eyes are flashing at the woman in a way that makes me want to shiver. He looks so furious. But I tell myself that fury is better than a blank sheet of ice, like the other inhabitants of the house. He's waving his hands around, and gesticulating wildly at the door behind him. The woman looks concerned, but has the expression of someone who will worry plenty and never do anything.  
  
Curious, I send my mind toward the room that they are arguing about, and after a moment I see why the brown haired boy was getting so excited. There is another boy laying curled up on the ground, just like a little baby. The image reminds me of something. Not a picture, exactly. More like a feeling. A *bad* feeling. It suddenly occurs to me why the image was bothering me so much: he is trying to cry but can't, because the tears are frozen onto his cheeks.  
  
I look furtively around the room. He should be helped. I watch helplessly for a moment, and then an idea comes to me. I admit, I am terrified to even try, but I feel like I have to help him; so I will. As long as no one sees me, it would be fine.  
  
So, taking a deep, steady breath, I walk through the mirror. Reality murmurs angrily, disappointed at my escape, and the fact that I am helping the boy. That makes me all the more convinced that I'm doing the right thing.  
  
I step softly over to the man and touch his arm. My breath hisses through my clenched teeth, and I shake my head. He's either dead or dying. My hand moves towards his neck, and I take his pulse without really remembering how to do so. Well, he's alive. Now what to do with him?  
  
My eyes skip over the room and land on his bed. The ghost of a smile flits across my lips and I pick him up. It's a small struggle (since he's so heavy) but I can manage. I carry him over to the bed and drop him on top. Growling softly to myself, I remove his shoes and pull the covers up to his chin. It reminds me of what they do to me, but he needs it. He's going to freeze otherwise.  
  
I'm moving to leave when my eyes fall on a picture of Jesus with several angels and some holy man from the Bible. A shadowy, blistering emotion erupts within me and I walk towards it with my eyes affixed firmly on Jesus' faintly haloed face.  
  
Angels deserved to die.  
  
*  
  
"What do you mean, I can't demand a doctor?" Duo hissed at the woman.  
  
The woman sighed again. "Duo Maxwell, you don't seem to understand how grave your situation is! If you let Serenity and her comrades know that you know what they've done to your friend, or that you don't trust them, or that you see through their smiles, you're dead. No, excuse me. You'll never die, here. Oh, no! Not death!"  
  
The woman laughed bitterly. Her eyes flicked towards the left, and then down to the ground. Her fingers clenched, and then relaxed. She raised her head again and looked at him squarely. "Not even Death herself dares visit this manor. He just lets these people march on with their dead, cold bodies," she said, her voice beginning to raise.  
  
"Well you're one of them, aren't you?" he snapped.  
  
Her hand flashed out, and she slapped him full across the face. The woman's lips were white where they were pressed together, and her cheeks flamed an angry red. "Don't you dare call me one of them," she whispered.  
  
Duo glared at her and decided to ignore her. He didn't trust anything in this whole damn house. He didn't trust the sweet Serenity, he didn't trust the mean Rei, he didn't trust the livelier Haruka, and he didn't trust the mysterious green haired woman.  
  
"Well what the hell am I supposed to do about Hiiro then?" he demanded, returning to the subject.  
  
The woman frowned. "I honestly don't think you know what you're talking about. Serenity herself wouldn't even go so far as to-" she cut herself off, seeing Duo's expression.  
  
"Okay, fine. You don't believe me? Come in and see for yourself!"  
  
He stomped into the room with the woman close behind and then stopped in surprise. Hiiro was not where he had left him; lying in a shivering ball on the floor. The man was, in fact, very peacefully sleeping. The green haired woman raised an eyebrow at him, and then looked pointedly at Hiiro.  
  
"You need to get your stories straight, Mr. Maxwell."  
  
Duo wasn't listening to her. He was trying to figure out how Hiiro had gotten from the floor to the bed and why the room didn't seem so cold and crowded as it had when he had first entered. His eyes roamed around the room, and came to rest on the large, once beautiful painting of Heaven.  
  
"Ma'am, I don't think that picture's supposed to look like that," he said, indicating the ruined picture.  
  
And ruined it was. Jesus' face had been stripped from the canvas board in tiny, angry strips. The angels' faces had been scratched out by what looked like nails, and King David's face, heart area, and hands had been similarly destroyed. It was a careful destruction. The anti-artist had made sure that nothing besides the faces had been destroyed, and that the end result was one of faceless and inhumane gods, angels, and holy men: blind to the rest of the world.  
  
Duo turned and lifted his own eyebrow at the woman's shocked face. He guessed that she was shocked to see such amazing artwork ruined like that. He knew he would have been if it hadn't been so damned creepy.  
  
The woman took a half-step forward, with her hand outstretched. Her fingers grazed Jesus' stripped face, and then she let her hand fall. Her eyes were wide and disbelieving.  
  
"Koneko-chan," she said in a tiny whisper. She looked down and inspected her fingers. Frowning and rubbing her fingers together, she exited the room without another word.  
  
Duo looked after her quizzically, and then shrugged. He didn't need that over-excitable woman anyways. But she left him with a mystery. Why had Hiiro been moved, and who had moved him? Did the same person who moved Hiiro destroy the painting, and if so, why? Who was Koneko? What was its relationship to the woman? How did the woman know Serenity? What was Serenity? What had she done to Hiiro? What exactly had happened to Hiiro?  
  
He grimaced. Okay. So she had left him with a few more mysteries than only one. But he could deal with it. He was a strong guy, he could deal with a few seriously disturbing questions that could mean life and death. But that didn't mean that he had to like it.  
  
*  
  
The fire crackled merrily in the hearth, yet gave off no heat. The light it cast on the chilly room was a thin white light that seemed to be stretched over too much blackness. The real light in the room came from a small, lagged crystal that looked like it had been broken at one time. It shone with a cold brilliance that outshone any fluorescent light. It illuminated the large, richly furnished parlor and the faces of the two that sat silently on opposite sides of the room. One of the figures had drawn back slightly in surprise at the news the other had relayed.  
  
Serenity frowned. "Rei, what do you mean that he's come with news of Endymion?"  
  
Her raven haired companion's expression didn't change-not even in the slightest. "They have come to tell you of Endymion, Serenity-sama. I do not know what the news is-they refused to tell me even a small amount of their mission."  
  
The silver haired princess' curiosity was piqued, despite the chill beating at her heart and mind. "Mission?" she echoed. "Surely that word is a bit strong for what they've come to tell us."  
  
Rei shook her head; a tiny, almost invisible movement. "No. It is their mission to tell you about Endymion. They are not messenger boys, Serenity. They're here on a mission-they're soldiers. Their movement and way of standing perfectly still shouts out what they are. I am amazed that they've survived this long in the war without being noticed. These boys are not the most subtle humans in the universe," she said, contempt lacing her voice.  
  
Serenity looked coldly amused. Rei was amazed? That was a laugh. None of them had felt true emotions since that tragedy a few years after they had defeated Chaos. She refused to admit it, but Serenity was still at a loss as to why it had happened in the first place. The Goddess of the Moon had given her all the Senshi powers and placed the crown on her head, when then two different voices-both belonging to her-cried out; one in joy of coronation, the other in grief of a lost childhood. Then there had been a splitting pain-  
  
--like the one she was feeling now. Serenity's eyes filled with the winter that howled outside their windows and whose cold had seeped into their hearts, freezing the tears that could no longer fall. Beside her, Rei's eyebrows twitched, and she stood.  
  
"Do you want me to deal with her this time, hime-sama?"  
  
Serenity shot a look at Rei, and the image of who she had been flashed through her mind. She saw the girl who's name they never spoke lunging through the mirror, screaming, crying; begging to just-stay-awake. What was left of her heart wrenched, reliving that moment when Serenity had looked into that girl's eyes and seen the mess of what they had done to her heart and soul.  
  
What they had left inside that girl now could no longer even be classified as a soul. It was a gnarled, crippled, twisted black mess of energy that glowed with a dull, fading light. In a sense, the girl was less human than they were. She was essentially undead. Neither totally alive, but neither completely dead. She was hovering, teetering between the two, trying to understand what she had done to herself-  
  
"I'll do it myself," she said suddenly.  
  
Rei, for the first time in what seemed like ages-and actually was-looked surprised. "Serenity-sama," she said after collecting herself, "are you sure that seeing her is such a good idea? I think you should wait until the-"  
  
"I said I'll do it, Rei. Do not presume to order me," Serenity interrupted. She at least owed it to herself to explain why she was doing it.  
  
Rei rose from the plush blood red chair in a fluid, graceful movement and curtsied deeply. Her red dress and black hair glowed in the crystal's white light, and goosebumps rippled up Serenity's arms. Rei looked completely inhuman in this fancy, white parlor.  
  
The silver haired princess suddenly felt utterly out of place with her friend. They had once been friends-didn't they at least owe each other the courtesy that friendship brought? Serenity was beginning to feel like Rei was fake; just like everything else in the manor. Fake smiles, fake laughs, fake hearts, and fake people.  
  
For the first time in years, Serenity stripped all the fancy stitching from her life and examined it. And for the first time in her life, she realized that coming here, coming here to this palace had been the worst thing Serenity ever could have done. The hair raised on her arms as the temperature dropped several degrees in accordance with Serenity's attitude. She shivered, and then clamped down on her muscles. Rei must not know! She couldn't know-but Serenity knew that her friend had seen.  
  
She stood up nervously and touched Rei's shoulder. Forcing herself not to flinch away, she smiled serenely. "You don't need to be so formal with me, Rei. We're friends, remember?"  
  
The raven haired woman rose and gave Serenity one of those empty, blank gazes. "Serenity-sama, I do not remember what a "friend" is. If I do not remember what a "friend" is, how can I possibly be one?"  
  
Then she glided out of the room without waiting for Serenity's response. The princess just stared after her with an open mouth. Realizing how she must look, she snapped her mouth closed and rearranged the folds of her dress absentmindedly as she repeated what Rei had said in her mind. She had no idea that it had been getting so bad that Rei would forget the meaning of friendship. Yes, Rei had been in the house the longest, besides Serenity of course. Then came Ami, then Makoto, and then Minako. Haruka, Michiru, Setsuna, and Hotaru stayed as far away from the manor as they possibly could, and they had a good reason to. The "Outers" as they had been called once upon a time were still bitter about the incident that had changed everything.  
  
Serenity drifted up the stairs and walked right towards the elevator-the hidden one, Elevator Two-and stepped inside. The machinery moaned loudly, and then began to creak upwards. She closed her eyes tightly and prayed to whatever god would listen that this would not be the time that the elevator failed.  
  
It was not.  
  
She stepped out of the cage unharmed, and breathed a sigh of relief. Taking the few steps needed to reach the girl's door, she stopped outside the heavily spelled wooden door with her hand on the doorknob. Serenity heard the sounds of a caught sob, and then someone scrambling away from the door. Holding back her own tiny grief, Serenity turned the knob and stepped inside.  
  
Serenity stood in the doorway for a few seconds, letting her eyes adjust to the unlit room. The *warm* black wholeness slashed at her heart, but the chill that reigned supreme beat it back with barely a flicker of blood. Her eyes finally adjusted, and she could see into that terrifying black room  
  
The girl stood before her, eyes wide like a deer caught in a headlight. She and Serenity stared at each other, until she crumpled to the floor with silent tears streaming down her face. Despite her own feelings, she kept herself still and did not let her run to her side and wipe the tears away. Serenity made herself watch impassively as the girl soaked the wood beneath her with salty tears.  
  
"Bed time," Serenity said softly.  
  
The girl looked for a moment like she was just going to sit placidly on the floor and let the inevitable happen to her, but then color flamed in her cheeks and those blue eyes that Serenity envied so much began to burn with an inner fire. The girl staggered to her feet and then drew herself up tall.  
  
Serenity stared at her in something that felt close to awe. This simple girl-a girl that refused to follow orders-stood there staring at Serenity in open defiance. She was scarred, her hair hung in limp blonde tatters, and her face was smudged with dust that had accumulated over years of sleep. The girl began to inch sideways, while Serenity just looked on in curiosity. The girl's eyes flicked to the side, and Serenity suddenly realized the girl's intentions.  
  
"Venus Love Chain!" she cried just as the girl flung herself at the mirror.  
  
*  
  
Hiiro sat up in bed, rubbing his head. Something had happened to him-but what? There had been a pinprick of pain in his left shoulder, and then every ounce of feeling had drained from his body. He had fallen to the ground at watched through closing eyelids as Duo had walked in and then left.  
  
And that was all he remembered. He did a body-check, making sure that nothing was out of the ordinary. He tested his arms, legs, back, neck, feet, hands, and everything else he had been taught to check. Nothing had appeared to happen to him, so why did he feel so wrong? Then he noticed it. His hands were white.  
  
White. Not pasty grayish like they show in movies where the hero is battling a disease. His hands were white. Pure white. The absence of any color that was supposed to be there. Hiiro touched his forehead and scowled deeply. His head was cold. Ice cold. Testing his arms and legs, he discovered that they were cold too. But he wasn't cold.  
  
His scowl deepened. He did not like it when things did not make sense, and things most definitely did not make sense right then. A shriek tore through his room, and his head snapped up right in time to see an arm come through his mirror. The arm grabbed the frame of his mirror and pulled. The next thing he saw was a face.  
  
Hiiro stared. There was a girl that looked somewhat like Serenity's lost twin sister coming through his mirror. She raised her eyes to his, and she cried out a wordless plea for help.  
  
"Who are you?" he asked in a monotone.  
  
A look of pure fury contorted her pretty face, and she was yanked backwards. Her fingers were becoming white trying to keep a hold of his frame. Her mouth opened, and then closed with a snap. She twisted, and then was yanked backwards again. She let out a loud sob as blood ran from her fingers out of the cut made by Hiiro's sharp mirror.  
  
"Jupiter Oak Evolution!" someone from the other side of the mirror cried out.  
  
His mirror flashed green, and the girl screamed in pain. Then her eyes began to flutter closed, but the tears didn't stop. They kept dripping down her face, making tracks in the history of dust on her cheeks. Her fingers slipped from his frame, and she was sucked backwards. His entire mirror rippled, and he just kept staring.  
  
"There was no way that was real," he said to himself. Then he laid his head back on the pillow, convincing himself that it was just a dream. A bad, bad dream. A dream of a tortured soul trying to escape something or someone that could not be escaped.  
  
Duo burst into the room and looked around wildly. "Hiiro! Who screamed? That's the second time today!"  
  
Hiiro frowned, and rolled over so that his back was facing Duo and the open door. "No one screamed. I was dreaming. No one screamed," he repeated.  
  
The braided man looked strangely at him. "Bull shit, Hiiro! Everyone heard the scream. That Rei lady flipped out and went upstairs muttering about weak-hearted people who just couldn't do what needed to be done."  
  
"Rei flipped out," Hiiro echoed skeptically.  
  
Duo scowled. "Well, her eyebrow twitched, and I consider that to be flipping out for her. Haruka went nuts, and started shouting about seeing someone named Koneko, which I think is a really weird name."  
  
The braided boy suddenly stopped, as if realizing that he was just trying to fill the space that was a given in Rosethorn Manor. "Hiiro, something is seriously wrong with this place." A dark look crossed his face. "What was your dream about?"  
  
Hiiro grunted and glared at Duo. "Get out of my room."  
  
"Hiiro, I need to know! Something is wrong with this manor! There is something wrong with these people! There've been two screams today, I found you passed out on your floor, and now you're as white as a sheet! Something is going on!"  
  
"You've been watching too many movies, Maxwell. Now get out my room!"  
  
Duo clenched his teeth and walked out of the room. Let the damn house take him. See if he cared. If Hiiro was to blind to see that something wrong could happen, and that this time it might not be something that they knew how to handle.  
  
*  
  
Sleep.  
  
Sleep, she said to me.  
  
(wake up) What?  
  
(wake up!) But I can't-(wake up now!)  
  
My eyes opened. I was awake, and I had never felt so unleashed. I felt like I could do anything if I wanted to. The pictures of the people that I had interacted with danced fleetingly through my sleep clogged mind, and I suddenly knew what was going on. Over all the thousands of years I had spent alone, I had considered myself the only person in the universe. But now I knew that there were souls out there. Souls out there that could still burn.  
  
And I was now operating in real time.  
  
I slid out of bed and stood perfectly still. I stood like that for several hours, until I was sure that no one knew I was awake. I giggled, scaring myself with the sound. I smiled broadly, wondering what they would say if they saw me awake only ten minutes after I had been put back to sleep? They'd make me sleep again, but could they really? I'd just wake up and then come for them. I'd come for them, and I'd make them pay.  
  
I giggled to myself, and I almost felt like a part of me drew away in fear, but I dragged it back. I wasn't enough of myself as it was. I couldn't afford to lose any more of my spirit. It's a known fact, I thought with a bright smile as I leaped jauntily towards the mirror, that the less of a person you are, the less sane you are too. I paused, reflecting on this. Was it true? Of course it was!-I thought with a merry laugh.  
  
But how to make the smiling ones pay? I thumped down to the floor and crossed my legs; thinking.  
  
(not yet)  
  
Not yet. Of course. I wanted to scare them first. Angels deserved to die and Serenity needed to be shown that you can't simply dispose of someone with a soul that could burn. What a terrible waste of life!  
  
Without a real thought, I rearranged my legs in a position that I half- remembered. I rested my hands on my knees and closed my eyes. Could I still burn? I reached inside myself and touched the rage, the pain, and the terror. My soul was burning with flames twisted black and blue. That was not the color one should burn, but I could still burn.  
  
A tiny, pleasant smile carved itself into my face and I stood up. I turned to face the mirror and projected my thoughts there. No, I did not want them to see me. I wanted to see her. The image came to me with frightening clarity. The room was decorated in red and black, and was carefully Spartan. My eyes roamed around her room, and then fell on the painting of someone that actually looked familiar. She was tall, and was wearing a crown. Lavender hair fell in long pigtails from two buns that looked like mine, but much more tidy. I was tempted to ignore her, but then I saw the incriminating evidence. Large, feathery wings extended from her back.  
  
I growled deep in my throat and stepped through the mirror. Without taking my eyes from the woman's face, I removed the chunk of crystal from its place in my pocket. I had no idea where it came from, but I had found it on a chain around my neck the very first time I woke up. I had never really given it much thought, but it suddenly occurred to me that I didn't have to tear my nails because I was destroying works of art. I could use a sharpened weapon. So during my last time awake, I had sharpened it to a gleaming point, made especially for the destruction of angels. For some reason, it seemed that crystal was a fitting death. Death by crystal.  
  
A sick chuckle escaped my lips, and I looked around guiltily. Good. No one had heard me. I raised the crystal to the painting with a thoughtfulness that both frightened and exhilarated me. In my hand was absolute power. I placed the sharpened point and pressed it against the angel's forehead. With sudden viciousness I tore through the canvas and ripped downwards. Her face faded away beneath my crystal, and then I stepped back and surveyed my work  
  
She was an angel. A megami. The Megami no Tsuki, as the plaque proclaimed her.  
  
Let her return to God, then, I thought with grim satisfaction. I had destroyed the entire painting, even though it was progress in my eyes. Angels deserved to die, after all. There was a cross right through the middle of the woman, obscuring her wings, shoulders, her face, and a line down the middle of her body.  
  
Angels deserved to die, I said to myself again.  
  
I heard the creak of floorboards outside the room and flung myself at the mirror. I crouched inside my room, watching in avid fascination as the dead woman entered her room and then stopped in shock when she saw the painting. Her mouth dropped open, and then she spun and flew out of the room. I clutched my belly and rolled to the side; faint with soundless laughter. Humming to myself I stepped back through the mirror, but not appearing in any room.  
  
This time when they came to my room to take me, I wouldn't be there.  
  
  
  
  
  
_______________________  
  
Eh. *scratches head* What do you think? I'm not so great at this whole un-funny thing, as far as I'm concerned. Jesus, I don't think I can do this! I don't think I'm going to continue. *shakes head* Way too traumatizing for me, I have to say. *sniff* And after just seeing "The Ring" I'm still kinda traumatized about that... *sniff* Oh yeah, you might want to check this aspiring authoress out. She's pretty good. Her name's watergoddess, and she's writing this story loosely based on Harry Potter, but it's mostly about psycho girls, magic powers, and mysterious men... THAT story's called Rain. Her other story is called Death-Bringer, and that's good too. Check her out and review! You won't regret it! 


	3. Sight

G O D F O R S A K E N  
  
C H A P T E R T H R E E  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"No live organism can continue for long to exist sanely under conditions of absolute reality; even larks and katydids are supposed, by some, to dream. Hill House, not sane, stood by itself against its hills, holding darkness within; it had stood for eighty years and might stand for eighty more. Within, walls continued upright, bricks met neatly, floors were firm, and doors were sensibly shut; silence lay steadily against the wood and stone of /hill House, and whatever walked there, walked alone."  
  
-Shirley Jackson (Haunting of Hill House)  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
'O God, why hast thou forsaken me?'  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The past is a curious thing. Contrary to popular belief, it is not unchangeable. It is, in fact, constantly being redone and refined. Why? Because sometimes something happens that is too painful for Time to bear. World War I and II were two such events. So was Vietnam. So was the fall of the Silver Millennium, for that matter. These events are called "temporaries". There are beings under the rule of the angels called "tampermasters", and their job is to slip and slide whichever way through time and right some of the many wrongs man has created.  
  
They fix many things, and are hailed throughout the heavens as creatures of remarkable resource, courage, and infinite compassion for the humankind and all of the other mortals that inhabit the realm most call "reality", which may or may not be an accurate name for where they are. Yes, they fix many, many wrongs.  
  
But there are some wrongs out there so terrible and utterly heart-clenching that the tampermasters cannot reach them. These events are suspended in time, forever burned onto the plate that Time wields to protect the flow of life and death. These events are of course, the ones that need to be changed the most. They are the ones whose effects stretch over the centuries, withstanding the onslaught of Time.  
  
There have been two of these dread events. One was when the world was created and the one hundred and fifteenth male took up with Chaos, thereby inviting all things opposite of God into the universe. The other was several thousand years ago, when the fated savior of this reality was destroyed in a heartbeat. The enemy? Herself.  
  
Oh, the heavens wept on both those days. The pits of Hell rejoiced. Man carried on in its beautiful, terrible way. Some angels argue that inviting Chaos was not necessarily a bad thing, when you look at what humankind has created. They created the hanging garden of Babylon. They created artists like Picasso and Mozart. Their minds reached to the clouds and beyond. But, the others argue back, look at what those men do with their minds. They create weapons of mass destruction. They kill millions of people. They do awful things to innocent people. But for freedom, the other usually cries. Look what they do for freedom! Look what they do for hate, the other responds savagely. The beauty, says the first desperately. The horror, replies the second.  
  
The first event can be argued either way, as shown. Most agree that "reality" would be a better place without Chaos, however. It is on the second topic the debaters fall silent. So much pain spawned from that day. Pain which was, of course, restricted to a select few, but that select few were the joint rulers of the universe. Their pain carried into the distant reaches of space and beyond. Most new angels wonder why the singing falls silent on the thirtieth of June and why the foul, rotten sound of demons' joy floats to their ears.  
  
What happened so long ago on this day that you are silent, they demand.  
  
Sad eyes turn to them, and then are cast to Earth. Let us show you, they say sadly in unison.  
  
On this day so long ago, there was a young woman. She was a creature of Light, one of our own. She had spent her entire existence protecting her earth so that her craving for justice might be satisfied. It never would be, and she knew that, so she fought with a vigor that might surprise someone that didn't know her. She had a family. She had a fiancé. She had a wonderful future daughter. She had loving friends. Her birthday came that fateful year, and the crown was presented to her (for she was a princess of great importance). The very moment the Gem of Power was placed into her crown, her heart cried out when the Gem's powers were at their peak. In order for all to go well on coronation, you must be of sound heart, and she was not. Half of her surged up to meet the crown and the responsibilities of monarchy, but the other half drew back in lamentation for the childhood she was never allowed to have. A terrible, terrible thing happened then. Her soul was split into two pieces. The One Who Should Not Have Been stared at herself in something like horror. The rightful woman stepped forwards, but then everything was gone. The Gem shattered into hundreds of shards, which entered each woman. Not knowing what else to do, the rightful woman sent her sister to sleep and escaped to the country called England, where she set the Gem to work at building a mansion where she would hide her sister until she found a cure. We lost track of her several years ago, and evil has been growing on Earth. For all we know, she is still out there looking for a cure. No one knows.  
  
The younger angels snort, and laugh about "being almost taken in", but those sad eyes turn to them and they become silent. The eldest angel continues with one sentence.  
  
There are many, many wrongs being done in that mansion, he says sadly, and then is silenced by a look from the others. The day of mourning moves on, but this time with more curious looks towards Earth.  
  
Wrongs? How so? Why were they being done, and what could the rightful princess be doing in a house made of a holy jewel?  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The stairs moaned loudly under Serenity's feet, and the shadowed wheeled wildly around her golden head. She drew her shawl more tightly around her shoulders and continued up the stairs. There was a low cry, and Serenity shivered. This house terrified her.  
  
She came up to the stop of the dusty red carpet and looked fleetingly at the tall, imposing grandfather clock. The shadows swirled across it, and the dials began to spin. Serenity clenched her eyes shut, and then opened them again. The cuckoo bird shot out of the little door; its yellow head hanging at an odd angle.  
  
Serenity gasped and took a step backwards, almost tumbling off the top step. She stepped sideways, away from the steep stairwell, and pressed her back against the cold banister, trying to breathe. There was the sound of something creaking, and her eyes widened in horror as the cuckoo's head righted itself. There was a sickening crack, and then the head spun around to stare her right in the eye.  
  
"Time's almost up Rightful One! Time's almost up! Hickory dickory dock, the princess ran up to the lock! Into the room she came but left not the same! Hickory dickory dock!"  
  
Horror reared its ugly head inside her chest, making her entire body tremble as if she were about to fly apart-but there would be no blood, she thought with a wrenching shudder of heart. A tear ran down her cheek, drawing blood. She gasped and felt at the front of her blouse. Her fingertips came away crimson. Strangling her cry before it erupted from her mouth, she flew down the hall to the locked door at the end. She could still hear the bird laughing behind her.  
  
"Run, run, as fast as you can! You'll never catch her, she knows the Sleep- Bringer Man! One, two, be not true! Three, four open the door! Five, six, find the sticks! Sevens, eights, find their mates! Nine, ten, begin again!"  
  
There was a pause, and then it let out a blood curdling scream. New tears razored down Serenity's cheeks, and the bird laughed again. "YOU'LL NEVER FIND HER SERENITY! YOU'LL NEVER GET WHAT YOU WANT! NEVER! THE BLOOD HERE FLOWS TOO THICK TO LEAVE NOW! SHE'LL FIND YOU, AND WHEN THEY DO YOU'LL BE SORRY YOU EVER MURDERED HIM!" It screamed again, and then erupted into laughter. "YOU'LL NEVER GET ME, YOU BASTARD! YOU'LL NEVER GET ME YOU STUPID BRAT! BED-TIME NOW AND NO RUNNING! IT'S TIME FOR-"  
  
Serenity slammed the entry shut and pressed her back against the heavy oak, trying her very best not to cry. What was that bird? What was it??? What was it saying, and why? There had never been a cuckoo there before! Ever! And what was wrong with it, that it would act like that?  
  
It was then she noticed the cold. She lifted her frozen eyelashes up, and gazed solemnly at her room. There was nothing in the room, except for a pallet laid out on the floor in the northern corner. Well, that was a lie. There was a large, ornate dresser in the center of the eastern wall. The mirror now had two ripples in it, right when HER hands had come through. She gazed at her mirror for a while longer, and the turned the mirror away. After the confrontation with the bird, the last thing she needed was a first liquid, and then a scarred and screaming face pushing its way through her mirror.  
  
She crossed to the tall pedestal in the center of the room and paused about three feet away from it. Her teeth sunk down on her lower lip, drawing what used to be her blood. It didn't belong to her anymore, she thought sadly. Then she frowned. She had no business thinking like she was. It was purely for survival. Serenity became aware of the wet cloth pressing against her chest, and looked down to see that the scarlet stain had spread. Was it really just for survival anymore? Yes. It was. She would die without doing what she had to do. Or end up like the other you, the back of her mind commented.  
  
She closed her eyes and walked across the ground, ignoring the frost that had crept along the floorboards until it now had the look of an intricate masterpiece. Her eyes fell upon the blood red dagger laying on the ice pedestal and shuddered. Reaching out, she almost stopped, but then forced herself to pick it up. It was now, or her friends would do it for her.  
  
Eyes closed, she positioned the dagger above her heart. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and then she slid it into her chest with a pained cry that reverberated throughout the room. Her mouth opened, and some blood leaked out of the corners. She felt the horrible sucking motion, and the dagger began to warm up and shimmer with power. Was it deep enough? No. She pulled it further into her heart, and then felt it slide smoothly into the groove that she had created many years before.  
  
Black energy crackling with red veins erupted from the wound on her chest, and she screamed in the kind of pain that scratches ugly memories onto the gravestone of time. Suddenly it was over. The world became white for one moment, but she simply waited patiently. The part of her that was still screaming in agony began to dissipate. The silver haired woman watched in utter disinterest as the thing she disdainfully called "emotions" was carried away in a crimson ocean of pain and blood. Then all that was left was ice.  
  
Serenity looked coolly at the knife and carefully extracted it from her chest. She crossed the room to a silver bar, on which hung a red towel. Taking the towel, she wiped the blood from the dagger and placed it back on the pedestal. It glowed briefly, and she smiled frostily.  
  
She always got what she wanted.  
  
  
  
  
  
Duo's head snapped up when he heard the shriek. Minako, who had been "entertaining him" with a monotonous account of how she had once beaten a Formula 1 racer at a racing game-never mind the fact that the racer had allowed her to win. The walls seemed to buckle around them, and the air swarmed with living things.  
  
Those things, whether they were devils or angels, brushed past him, touching his hair, whispering soundless words of caution and horror into his ears. Minako's dead blue eyes were focused unflinchingly on the peeling white paint that hung in strips from the ceiling. Duo's mouth opened in horror as spider webs woven with the strength of time and evil appeared bit by bit in the corners of the walls. The rich maroon chair he was seated in became dusty and worn, the springs showing through in several places. Faces pushed themselves out of the wall, crying tears of rubies and crystals. He felt something warm drip on the top of his head, and he looked up to see a woman smiling down at him, rivers of blood streaming from her eyes, which were a dark, terrible blue.  
  
Then suddenly she was gone, the spider webs had disappeared to whichever hell that they came from, the bodies were gone, the voices were gone, and Minako's blank eyes were focused on him. Her face was expressionless, but something about her posture implied curiosity.  
  
"Are you uncomfortable?" she inquired without feeling.  
  
Still trying to recover his breath, he shook his head and struggled to overcome the previous moment's horror. Once he was sure he wasn't going to die from terror, he made one resolve: to find out what the hell was going on, and then to stop it.  
  
"Hello Minako," came a musical voice from the doorway.  
  
Duo cringed. If there was any one person he was truly frightened of, it was Serenity. Her hard, cold hands. The prints of blood her fingers had left on his palm. The animated, cold blue marbles of her eyes. The long silver streamers of silky hair that marked her as a formidable opponent.  
  
There was something in the way those eyes watched him that made him feel like she was just waiting. Just biding her time. Measuring how much life flowed through his veins. How much she could take.  
  
He forced himself to smile and stand. Gently taking her hand and taking great pains not to press to hard, he bowed over her outstretched hand. "Serenity," he murmured.  
  
Her laugh grated over his ears like spoiled bells. "Oh Duo, no need for such formality. Please, sit down. I regret for the scream earlier. There are some particular ailments in this household, and the only cure is, I'm afraid to say, rather painful. They are recovering this minute, even though the disorder is for life."  
  
"Many things are for life," he agreed, pulling out a chair for the-rather small, he noticed-woman. Maybe her presence just daunted him, which would most likely be the reason for his heart shriveling in revulsion and fear when the woman's face came into sight. That such a small, cold face could elicit such a great fear from someone so used to the evils of the world.... It was unimaginable, Duo thought in semi-shock as he seated himself once more.  
  
Serenity smiled a perfect, tiny smile at him. "Have you enjoyed your stay here much, Duo Maxwell?"  
  
"As much as can be expected," he said with a false smile, which he was certain that the two women caught.  
  
Serenity's own smile didn't falter. "I'm so glad....."  
  
  
  
  
  
A loud gasp escaped Quatre, and his left hand gripped the cloth above his heart. The world spun unsteadily around him, and he stumbled and fell to the floor. He dragged himself upright and sat up against the walls, laboring for a steady heart.  
  
He didn't understand! This house had seemed so inviting when they had first entered, and then Duo got that carefully blank look on his face that was usually reserved for a mission-and undercover mission. Duo's expression earlier in the week meant that behind the mask he was evaluating and re-evaluating everything and everyone that he came across. And then Duo had met Serenity, and not even he could keep the terrified look from his face as he made the hasty retreat.  
  
Quatre had been confused at first, and now cursed himself for it. How had he missed it? The house radiated evil like no other he had ever encountered, and he had encountered such great evil in his lifetime. His heart gave another frantic beat, and then suddenly the attack was over. He crawled to his feet and had just made it to where he was unbending his knees to stand upright when another beat tore through his head like a bullet.  
  
He cried out in pain and clutched the sides of his head, moaning in pain. The beat came again, and he crumpled onto his side. The pains came faster and faster, until his muscles were just locked into a fetal position. He cried out in the frail hope that someone would hear and rescue him.  
  
Someone did hear.  
  
A harsh toe kicked into his side. "Get a hold of yourself," a harsh female voice commanded.  
  
Quatre rolled over and looked up into a beautiful, even though horribly scarred face. Brilliant blue eyes shone like beacons down at him. Pink lips were twisted into a furious scowl. Quatre tried to stand, but she stepped down on his chest. Not uttering even a sound, she cocked her head and smiled.  
  
"Lesser of the two," she murmured, and then gave a bitter laugh. "She would say so." Transferring her gaze to the paralyzed blonde on the dusty carpet, her eyes hardened.  
  
"What are you doing in this hallway?" she asked softly.  
  
Quatre prepared and answer, and then felt it. He struggled towards a revelation like a blind man climbing slowly through a vacuum into a truth that just may be more horrifying than the path towards it. The silence draped over them like a rotten cloak, and he reached out a timid hand to touch her knee. The instant he touched her flesh, she jerked back, blue eyes wide and amazed.  
  
"No one's touched me since-" she stopped, shook her head, and then smiled. "Who are you?"  
  
His voice tried to rise from his throat, but his mind strangled it before it could. Don't, his mind was saying, this woman is not someone you want to know. But if not her, than who? Quatre asked himself. Serenity? I hardly think so, he decided, remembering the look of utter terror on Duo's face.  
  
"It doesn't matter," she said finally, giving him a calculating look. "What does matter is this. You need to keep a closer eye on your friends. The one with the brown hair- not the smart one, and not the one that never speaks and still doesn't hear- the other one," she made a gesture with her hand, and Quatre knew who she meant.  
  
"Hiiro," he gasped. "Something's happened to Hiiro? What? Tell me!" he shouted, making a grab for her ankles.  
  
She kicked him, and stepped out of his reach. "Don't touch me," she said viciously. "For all I know, you're a trap in my way. I mustn't let myself get sidetracked," she whispered to herself, hand tightening around some object in her fist.  
  
"Who are you?" he managed to croak.  
  
The woman looked back at him surprised that he was still there. Then her expression cleared and for one instant he saw someone- a more innocent Serenity- but then the moment was gone, and a cruel, derisive smile was quirking her lips.  
  
"Ask your braided friend, although you already know," she breathed.  
  
Then she turned her back on him, and he saw her for what she truly was. He tried so hard to hold it in, but in the end the fear overwhelmed his common sense and he screamed in sheer terror. Quatre backpedaled into the elevator and slammed his hand down on the buttons-he didn't care which ones, as long as they took him away from the creature walking away from him.  
  
The rusting iron gates screeched closed, and right as the metal coffin shuddered to a start, the woman turned around and smiled at him. Giving him a little wave, she turned back around and walked right into the mirror.  
  
Silver waves from her passage spread towards the golden frame, and then pooled over it onto the floor. Reality howled in protest. The walls buckled, the air rippled, the carpet became a row of dead roses, men and women began to rise from the floor, shrieking and laughing, and then the mirror screamed with the woman's voice. The scream turned to laughter, and then Quatre's head was below the floor.  
  
Duo, Wufei, and Trowa, who had heard the scream, found him huddled in one corner of the elevator, sobbing in terror. Duo ran right towards him, but somehow Serenity beat him towards the blonde. She knelt beside him and stroked his head.  
  
"What happened?" she asked softly.  
  
Quatre's cries increased, and the three pilots exchanged a worried look. It was one thing for Quatre to overreact, but it was entirely a different subject when a man who has seen death and war in spades frightened so badly that he was reduced to tears. The hallways echoed with the sound, reaching back to them with dead, rotting hands and laughing at them with what seemed to them a man's voice.  
  
Serenity's head raised, and then she looked upwards, to the tall spire reaching up through the middle of the mansion. One of the serving men had said that there was a house at the top, where a wizard lived. Duo didn't believe the stories, but now......  
  
The silver haired lady nodded her head once at Makoto, who inclined her head and exited the room without a sound. She followed Makoto's progress with her eyes until she could no longer be traced. Then she instantly returned her attention to Quatre. Her hand moved down from his head to the back of his neck.  
  
"What happened?" she asked again.  
  
This time Quatre raised a tear-stained face to look into Serenity's concerned one. "You know," he said hoarsely. "You made her that. You did that to her, and she did this to you. You'll never have each other, you'll never have life, you'll never have death, and you'll never have the wings you need to stand back up!" He began to laugh, a frightening contrast to the tears still racing down his cheeks. "You're crippled! The cost outweighs the benefit! You lose this time, madams," he hissed out before the tears came back, a hundredfold more powerful now.  
  
Then he suddenly slumped to the floor. Wufei's katana was instantly at Serenity's white throat. Duo saw something there, and he tried to edge closer, but Serenity's eyes flicked towards him, freezing him in his tracks. Those pale eyes slowly slid back to Wufei's obsidian ones, and she smiled charmingly.  
  
"He was in pain," she said placidly. "I was helping him. Minako, find Haruka and assist him to his room. Ami, Rei, come with me. We have some matters to discuss with Makoto. Dismissed," she said walking away down the hall. Ami and Rei glanced at each other, shared a satisfied look, and then followed their lady.  
  
Wufei frowned. "Let's get Quatre to his room. There's no telling what these women will do to him," he said bluntly.  
  
Duo turned to him in amazement. "You've finally realized too? That there's something seriously wrong here? That something big is going on?"  
  
The Chinese man frowned. "I didn't realize until today," he confessed. "Not until Quatre screamed, and then confessed to Serenity that he saw something that she does not want seen. And then that echo. It was not Quatre's crying, it was some other man laughing, whom Serenity sent Makoto to quiet. Then there were those screams earlier, and then situation with Hiiro. Yeah, I'd say there's something up here. Come on, help me," he commanded.  
  
The two men picked Quatre up and headed towards the stairs. As they neared the elevator, Quatre began to thrash wildly. Trowa moved in front of them and pointed the way to the next staircase. They climbed it, the aging house creaking beneath them. As they continued down the dimly lit halls, Duo heard Quatre murmur something. He leaned closer to catch the last bit of it.  
  
"-lesser of the two evils of the house. O God, why hast thou forsaken me and mine?" The last part was a whimpered plea for an answer- any answer.  
  
And it was an answer a grim faced Duo couldn't provide.  
  
But he knew someone who could.  
  
  
  
  
  
~*~  
  
I watched them through the mirror. The one whose name was Nanashi, but whom they called Trowa, was walking in front of them like a beacon, lighting their way. As they passed my mirror, he turned his head and looked right at me, and almost reached out to touch the mirror. I readied my blade. Then a hurried exclamation from the braided one drew him away.  
  
Studying the braided one with new interest, I watched as the three men deposited the blonde in his chambers on his bed. I felt mildly ashamed of sending him into that state, but how was I to know that he could see me for what I was?  
  
I tried to twist my head around to see I if could see what he could- but as was expected, I could not. I would be forever blind to myself and other like me- if there were any. The rage exploded in me like a red-hot poker being thrust onto my soul, branding me forever.  
  
Picking up the nearest vase, I hurtled it at the wall and watched with pleasure as it shattered upon impact and showered to the sleek hardwood floors in a rain of glass. Feeling somewhat satiated, I crossed what had been my daughter's room to her closet and removed the dress. Despite the age, the material glistened the same way that Serenity's did when she moved. It turned a light gray at my touch, however. The despair settled around me like a cloak, which shortly became a reality. I covered the cloak with something more fitting- the burning crimson of rage and the velvety blackness of death- and then slipped out of my rags and into her dress.  
  
It was the slightest bit too small, so the hem didn't collapse in a heap about the floor around me. It just brushed the wood, which made me smile. Yet another difference. But did it matter? No. I cast off my three cloaks- just for the night- and stepped into a ballroom somewhere between dreams and reality.  
  
Raising my hands to my mouth, I called out, and the dead rose from the floor to join me in my dance.  
  
~*~ 


	4. Confrontation

G O D F O R S A K E N  
  
C H A P T E R F O U R  
  
'O God, why hast thou forsaken me?'  
  
Everything was silent. If one could paint the emotion that the house felt, there would be nothing on the canvas besides a white space that stretched across the walls and twined deep into the floorboards. Then, if this painting were given life, one would undoubtedly see a tiny speck of crimson appear in the upper left corner of the white expanse. This pinprick of color would bleed downward, lending what might be called life if one was a very optimistic person. One would begin to make out a long hallway, leading to a thick door that twisted and moaned under some unseen wrong. The hallway itself would seem unreal, as if someone had warped it with years spent outside of the light. The red flow would begin to become too great for the painting to absorb, and everything would become draped in a scarlet cloak. Only then would one be able to see the figure wrapped tightly in thick, gnarled branches that stemmed from the walls, floors, and ceilings of every place the red tide touched. The red would continue building up, until one would no longer see anything except that figure and then its eyes would open and then all one would be able to see would be blue-  
  
He did not make a sound. Quatre just sat there in his bed, sheets tangled around themselves at the corner of his bed. The darkness pressed around him, and he reached for the light switch, struggling to suppress the scream that would inevitably come.  
  
Why was this happening to him? How was it that first of all Duo could sense what was going on, and then suddenly everything had been unveiled, leaving Quatre to bear the brunt of it? Why was everything feeling so terribly wrong?  
  
A sigh whispered through his room, and he dug his fingernails into the richly decorated quilt. His training moved sluggishly into gear, while he mentally begged it to move more quickly. It did not. Once he finally remembered what to do, Quatre looked around his room anxiously, grappling with his fear and trying to decide whether he should simply make a break for it or do the insane and impossible, and wait for her to come. For he knew without a doubt that she would come for him.  
  
He imagined how it would happen, a cold sweat beading on his brow. He would be laying there on the bed, striving not to scream or lash out against the shadows that would surround his bedside. The door would open. The dull yellow light would pour through the doorway onto his floor. He wouldn't look to the side, because he would be hoping with all of his heart that she wouldn't be there, and that everything was just a dream. He would hear the floorboards creak, and the terror would begin to build up in his chest. He would squeeze his eyes shut and pray to God that He would deliver his soul. No one would answer his plea, and he would hear a low, masculine laugh, filled with malice. The terror would flee from him, and he would be empty, waiting to look into her eyes. His eyes would open, and she would be there, standing above him, wearing a tattered white dress. He would stare at her and the scars running down her arms and face, and her dusty blonde hair as it fell freely to her feet. There would be a wave in her hair near her head, suggesting that there had once been pigtails there. Her head would be bowed, and then she would raise it and look into him with eyes filled with nothing except hurt and bottomless, bottomless blue. A strange, crooked smile would grace her lips, and she would reach out and nearly touch his cheek, but draw back. His cheek would sting where she nearly made contact.  
  
"You amaze me," she would whisper in a voice like golden bells that had been broken and repaired wrongly.  
  
He would open his mouth and the only thing that would come out would be a terrified gasp. She would let her eyes close halfway, loosening some of his fear. His hands would curl around the sheets, and she would glance down at them. Her muscles would bunch, and a wide smile would come to her face.  
  
"Do you know something, Quatre Rabera Winner? I have discovered two things in my time here. There is no such thing as God. God would never let what has happened here happen. It would one of the great sins of mankind and the dead, Quatre Rabera Winner. Gabriel and Raphael cried for this wrong, and God sent four of his own to help. Did it help? No. They were drug into the depths of Hell, where even Satan cannot reach. Their wings were torn from their bodies and their halos were ripped from their hearts. The iron stake of immortality was hammered into their souls, and the great sins piled up on them like flies to a rotting fruit. The second thing that I have learned is that there are no good men or women in this house, and there are two great evils. Can you tell which is the lesser? Can I? It has taken me years to discover the two. It will take be centuries more to answer the next. Do you have a century to think, Quatre Rabera Winner? Or can you save yourself and yours before the seventh day?"  
  
Then she would have said his name three times, and a cold hand would wrap around his heart and squeeze. He would open his mouth to scream, and the other phantom hand would reach down his throat and steal his words. The vice around his heart would contract, and his body would convulse with pain. It would tighten again, and the pain would move to an area that he would not be able to identify. It was everywhere and nowhere. It was in the core of his being. She would take his face his her hands and touch her dead lips to his feverish head.  
  
"That's what your soul feels like when it's dying," she would whisper.  
  
The hand would be gone from his throat and heart, and he would fall back on his bed, too full of pain to even cry. Her feet would press against the moaning floor, and her hand would touch the doorknob, and then fall away. She would turn down the hall to the right, and he would thank God or whoever might have saved him that his soul was still his.  
  
But would it be?  
  
He would sit back up in bed and clutch at his heart. Would there be an absence there? Would there be a hollow where his soul was supposed to be? Was there any way to tell? He hadn't even known what a soul felt like until he had felt its pain.  
  
Quatre broke himself from his imaginings and wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt. Pure foolishness. He should run. He should run fast and hard. She would come for him, and she would take whatever he thought was his. He made to swing his feet off the bed and froze.  
  
Dull yellow light poured through his doorway, making a perfect square on his floorboard. Denial rose in his heart like a welling of lava from an erupting volcano. Shadows of men and women slanted across the square of light on his floor, and one of the shadows fell back and stood in the center.  
  
There was a thump from under his bed, and he almost cried.  
  
"Don't look under the bed, Quatre Rabera Winner," she whispered to him, her whispery laughter echoing around his room and in his head.  
  
He whimpered and laid back down in a fetal position, stomach turning painfully. Which way do you turn when the enemy is a house?  
  
Duo was not asleep.  
  
He was ready for what he knew would come. Something had terrified Quatre so much that he had been reduced to a completely unintelligible state of insanity. Something had been laughing when they had found Quatre. Something had made the slashes on the paintings. Something had happened in the parlor the other day. Something had happened years and years ago that made everything else happen as well. Whether all the things were the same or completely different, he was determined to uncover what, exactly, was going on.  
  
He had decided that the best way to find out was camp in the room beside Quatre's and wait. He wasn't sure whether the creature would actually come for Quatre or not, but he knew he had to be ready. What he was ready for, unfortunately, was not what he found. Things rarely were what anyone ever expected. Duo had been expecting a hideous monster, terrifying in it's grotesqueness.  
  
What he found was a tiny slip of a girl. She wore a dress that he had seen on Serenity many times, although her version was very worn and tattered. The shell sleeves had been torn. The dress was a darker shade of gray, and had quite a few places where it had been worn through. Scars wound down her arms, and a thick beige scar streaked across her left cheek. Her feet were bare. Long blonde hair cascaded to her feet in tangled waves. He suddenly knew that once she had been beautiful. Once. Once very long ago.  
  
She entered Quatre's room. After a while he heard Quatre whimper, and tensed. He glanced through the peephole and strove desperately to see if Quatre needed his help. His answer was no. Quatre and the woman were staring at each other. Her mouth was moving, but he could only faintly hear her words.  
  
She exited his room, and Duo edged out into the hall. The woman walked down the hall and past the room that Duo was hiding out in. Her step didn't slow or falter as she passed, but her head turned and her eyes pierced into him. He swore silently and stumbled backwards, unconsciously brushing his skin free of the feeling of her stare.  
  
Scared now, and utterly confused, Duo opened the door completely, and then halfway closed it again. Did he want to go out there and face her? Did he want to demand an explanation? Were his friends lives really worth facing that beast of a woman? His violet eyes squeezed shut. Of course they were. He was a Gundam pilot. He was born to take risks. And there was always a chance that she wouldn't kill him.  
  
He opened the door and stood. Walking slowly out into the hall, he turned to that he was facing the direction she had gone, and then stopped. She was simply standing in the dead center of the hallway, completely expressionless. Her hair fell freely down the sides of her face, over her shoulders, and down to the floor. The dress seemed to have repaired itself, although it was still a light gray. The scars still wound across her face, chest, neck, and arms, but they seemed to be old wounds that had left impressions on her soul. She lifted her head slightly, and focused her soft blue eyes on his face.  
  
"Who are you?" she asked softly, tears building in the back of her voice.  
  
Reality shimmered, but then steadied. Duo's hands tightened on the gun he had leveled at her. "People call me Duo Maxwell," he said uneasily, wondering what it was about this woman that had frightened Quatre so badly.  
  
When he had first seen her, she had radiated danger like nothing he had ever encountered, but facing her like this she seemed nothing more than a girl who had seen more pain than God should ever allow. A tiny smile curved her face.  
  
"I like that name. Why is it that you could feel this house's soul when no one else could? Lady Silver is usually so good about deception," she said bitterly.  
  
Duo did not let down his guard. There had to be a reason that Quatre had been terrified out of his mind. It was a trap! This act was only that: an act. The woman read his expression perfectly.  
  
"Forgive me about Quatre. He could perceive more than the average human once he got beyond Silver's shields. I can't even see in my mirror what he saw in me. Are you going to answer my question?"  
  
He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing but a dry whisper escaped. Duo wet his mouth and cleared his throat. "I don't know why. I was hoping that you could tell me. Who are you? What's going on here? Why are these things in this house? What is wrong with this place?"  
  
The woman still hadn't moved from her position. "So many questions," she murmured. "Would you like to know my third discovery? I've discovered the true loss of self. I no longer have a name. I was once part of a person called Usagi. Usagi is truly the one who holds all of the answers," she said with a strange, ghostly smile.  
  
Duo growled at her and took a half step forward. "Where can I find this Usagi person, then?"  
  
Her smile began to take on an ominous edge. "Oh, she's long gone."  
  
The woman was toying with him, he realized. The anger grew despite his efforts to hold it down. "Then why are you telling me about her?" he demanded. "It makes no sense! Who are you? Who is Usagi? What does Serenity have to do with everything? What is her connection to you?"  
  
Suddenly the smile vanished from her face. "You don't listen very well, do you? I have told you. Usagi is the key to this entire puzzle. Unlock the puzzle and you find Usagi. But how can you unlock the puzzle to find the key? It's impossible, of course."  
  
"Quit talking in riddles!" he roared.  
  
She made no sound, but gazed at him for a while longer. A feeling grew in his stomach like a bubbling knot of black tar. The hallway bent and shuddered angrily under the pressure of many wrongdoings and insults to the balance of nature. She glanced to the side, and Duo followed her gaze. A man was standing there, smiling. He was handsome, but at the same time Duo seemed to be seeing a grinning skeleton. The man waved a bit, and then tossed something to Duo.  
  
Don't drop it, his face seemed to say. Then the man was gone, and Duo was staring down at a piece of a crystal in his hands. Cold air rushed down the hallway towards the woman, blowing her hair backwards. Duo looked down towards where the wind came from and was shocked to find Serenity standing there alone. He was once again amazed at the resemblance between the two women.  
  
"You," Serenity snarled.  
  
"You," the woman acknowledged. "I find it amusing that you presume to call yourself Serenity, Usagi."  
  
The silver haired woman bared her teeth. "I am not Usagi! That's you!"  
  
Serenity's twin's cruel laugh rang out sharply. "You know very well that neither of us can claim either title, fool. You thought that we could simple go back together? Rejoin? Fix what was broken? Do you realize what would happen now? That thing you left me as a soul is broken. Torn. Polluted. It's not even a soul! And you! Pretty princess, reduced to stealing lives to keep herself alive! Never thought I'd see the day, and what a joyous day it is! Do you know why, Silver? Because it's our doom day," the woman said with a broad grin, grabbing a larger chunk of the crystal in her fist.  
  
Serenity's face hardened, and she brought her hand up. "But I still have them. You kill me, and what happens? This house was built from my soul, not yours. I die, and this house does down with me. This house and what's in its inner chambers," she added with a malicious smile.  
  
The woman stopped, stared, and then snarled. "You think that I care? How could I possibly care anymore?" she screamed. "You destroyed me! You ruined my soul! You let my mind go to waste! You left me alone for all these years, only even looking at me to put me back to sleep! You've destroyed all those lives! The blood here runs too thick for you to leave now, as I'm sure the clock's already told you," she said with a grin.  
  
Serenity froze. "You know about the clock."  
  
Laughing, the woman spread her fingers. "I put it there! It's our clock, Silver. I hid every clue anyone could possibly need to know in there, too! But it doesn't really exist, so I'm afraid you can't touch it!"  
  
"What are you talking about? You're insane!"  
  
A placid smile grew on the woman's face. "Oh, that very well may be true. But I've been here far longer than you have. Have you ever felt true oblivion, Silver? It goes for eternity. I have searched this house extensively, and have discovered it's secret. And that's my fourth discovery! Reality is only what you make it, Silver."  
  
The floor buckled, and the air crackled around them. The woman didn't seem to notice. "Even now reality is breaking up from my presence. You should be proud of what we created together, Silver. Together, we created an abomination. I am the woman that should not exist. I am an imbalance on the scale. I shall leave you now, to the reality that you've made for yourself and your guests. Expect me to come for you later," she said softly.  
  
Then before Serenity could do anything but stare, the woman turned and stepped into the mirror. Reality suddenly changed. The hallway was just a hallway. The walls were not crashing up and down, breaking against the floor. Serenity was just a woman, lost and afraid. The mirror was simply what it appeared to be. Then the reality he knew returned. The hallway was a dark tunnel, leading to a place that God never dared to go. The walls trembled with suppressed pain. Serenity was a statue of ice, turning away from the mirror and walking back down the hall and down the stairs. The mirror itself was a silver sheet, set in gold to reflect your soul, and the darkness that lay dormant within.  
  
This was not a good place to be. Duo pocketed the crystal and walked silently into his room. He closed his door and locked it. He turned the mirror so that it was facing the wall. He shuttered the window tightly. He slept with his gun under his pillow.  
  
I sat facing the window inside his room. I was amused to find that he had taken precautions against my entering his room, but unfortunately for him I had found a way. Duo Maxwell was much to interesting for me to simply leave him alone. Outside his room, the starry night sky should have been beautiful, but I kept on comparing it to my soul.  
  
The night was a blanket of black, spotted here and there with pinpricks of light that were so far away that it took years for their light to be shown to the world. This was completely unlike my soul. My soul was naught. My soul shouldn't even be thought of. It was so inconsequential that it was almost humorous. I would never die anyways, so I suppose that it didn't even matter.  
  
But I sometimes wondered about how I planned on coping with eternity. I assumed that I would eventually go mad. Or I would spell myself into a never ending sleep. I would program the spell to wipe my mind clean shortly afterwards, so that I would be unaware of the passage of time and the pressure of being alone.  
  
Would that work? Or course not. I would be doomed to wander the halls of Rosethorn manor with its dead hosts for as long as time managed to keep on shuddering on. Depressing as it was, it was the truth of all three realities I had discovered. I was currently in the second one, which was the one that I commonly operated from. The second level was where Duo and Quatre occasionally entered into. Duo had seen the second level once in the parlor with Minako, and of course, Quatre had seen it when he was with me.  
  
The second level of reality was sometimes a frightening place, but I found that it didn't bother me anymore. Once you became impartial enough, you didn't notice the manifestations of the negativity in the house. For that was all that inhabited the second level. Manifestations of rage, hate, pain, guilt, fear, and joy. Those few spirits of light were quickly dispensed of, which had made me sad for a while. That was back when I still considered myself to be salvageable, I suppose.  
  
Now I realize that I am only one of those dark spirits that haunt the halls. I was once human of course, but that hardly mattered. I was no longer. I was a thing bent on revenge and the destruction of my other part. That would be the only logical way to end my suffering. If I was tied to the house and the house was tied to Serenity, it was only reasonable to assume that Serenity's death would liberate me. And since she built the house from the crystal and part of the crystal was in me, wouldn't I vanish with the house? I dearly hoped so.  
  
Duo murmured something in his sleep, and I turned towards him. He looked so innocent, lying there. Untouched by the ages of the house, his face was unburdened by the absence of soul that lingered on others' faces. It was times like this that I really regretted doing what I did. I would always mourn the split and the misery it brought me, but I wished that I could have known Duo while I was alive and sane.  
  
But it was just wishful thinking. Wishing never got anyone anywhere.  
  
I stood and exited the way I came.  
  
Duo lay silent on his bed, gazing at the place that she had been sitting.  
  
***  
  
He burst out laughing, twisting in his chains. The blood dripped down his shirt, giving him what he imagined to be a tragically dead look. This thought made him laugh harder. Oh, he had never laughed like this when he was alive! Never! Why? Because he knew now that life was a joke, and it was a funny one as far as he was concerned.  
  
Rei gave him a look of total contempt and wiped the ice dagger on a red towel. "You're pathetic, you know," she said finally.  
  
This made him laugh as well. Did she even know how funny she was? She was so emotionless, and then she went and told him how pathetic she was! Despite the ice dagger treatment, he could still feel. Why? He knew! He knew! He knew, and it was one of the most amusing things he had ever heard! He began to run out of breath, and so he gasped and wheezed so that he could return to laughing immediately. There were too many serious issues that needed to be laughed over.  
  
Rei didn't show any reaction to his laughter, but her disgust showed plainly on her face. "You should have joined her. She was your wife."  
  
For the first time since her visit, his laughter died, and he stared at her with intent blue eyes. "My wife died. My wife was a wonderful, beautiful, kind hearted woman. Usagi was my wife! Usagi is dead, and do you know what's funny about that? She was a great person, and she won't even go to heaven! Half of her is stuck in that woman you call my wife, and the other is in a crazed animal! THE WOMAN YOU CALL SERENITY IS NOT MY WIFE!"  
  
Rei turned and left. The heavy door slammed closed, and he heard the lock turn, and then lock. He was silent. The cold pressed in around him, caressing the wound in his heart, searching for a way in. The warm, gold, Earth magic pushed the onslaught back only so far, but the ice was determined.  
  
The echoing sound of silence rushed and screamed in his ears, making him giggle. It tickled. He prepared himself for the next bit of booming, terrifying laughter. It was the only thing that kept the terror and pain at bay. It was the only thing that kept his soul from being infected by the house's throbbing heartbeat.  
  
Tears ran down his freshly shaved cheeks, mingling with the years of dried tears on his lips and on the collar of his shirt. His coal head bowed in tribute to the God he hoped was listening.  
  
"Someone please help me, help me, help me, help me, help me please! Put me out of my misery, I beg, I beg, I beg, I beg of anyone! These chains hurt my wrists and I'd love to see the sky, but I won't see the sun unless my soul becomes a lie, and then what's the point?"  
  
A fresh wave of grief rolled over him. "Oh God, someone set me free," he begged.  
  
The next screaming laughter sounded through the house, intermingled with sobs of despair. No one would come. No one. He was all alone. The house kept those it wanted. It was a greedy place, and it fed off of those with hope.  
  
The house could no longer plague him.  
  
Hope had left for a better place. 


End file.
